and life goes on
by betweenthethreads
Summary: Somehow their hands always manage to find each other's. Dacey


**and life goes on**

**author: **_betweenthethreads_

**summary: **_Somehow, their hands always find each other's. Dacey. _

**rating: **_T_

_._

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_and all of my bridges have come tumbling down _

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_._

She wishes that there is somebody to talk to about this - any of this. She feels like everything she has worked so hard to built up has been knocked down all in one fatal swoop. Everything seems to be changing and all she wants to do is go back in time, when her best friend is alive and that (_crazyhandsomebeautiful_) boy hasn't come back to her. Instead, all she can do is _feel. _Emotions are coursing through her like wildfire and somehow she feels more alive than she has felt in a long time (_suchalongtime), _but at the same time entirely dead. Like she is the one who had been beaten to death in her living room.

Regina.

_Regina._

Regina had conveyed a lot of different images - all of the things that she had wanted people to think about her. Generally, she seemed to be relatively vapid - which wasn't totally a lie - with her long, long,_ long_ golden hair and that charming smile that made you feel important (_ohsoimportant_).

Nobody had been there for Lacey when 'the incident' had happened oh so many years ago. Jo had become like a block of ice that refused to crack, and she could feel her own stone walls building themselves up. Everyone started to call her _crazy, _and a _murderer, _even though none of that was true (_wherewasherbestfriendwhensheneededhim?_).

Her town had always been far too small for it's own good, and small towns often seemed to lack entertainment.

Apparently, she had been the new late night special.

She can still remember exactly how it felt. The way that she would go to school everyday, so, so, _so_ alone, and sit at the table in the very far corner with her too black clothes and hope that she was invisible. But still, she would find her locker decorated with too mean of words, and things would be thrown at her while she walked down the hallway and _whatdidshedotodeservethis?_

It had been around that time that she had met Regina. _Really _met her, that is. Regina had been in all of her classes since preschool, but there had always been just enough kids that they had never really talked. Besides, she had had her own friends (_maybehedidkillhisauntjustmaybe?_).

It had been a Wednesday. She remembers, because after that Wednesday's became her favorite day. Everything had started out normal enough - this new normal, where everything was bad and ugly and she sometimes didn't like to look at herself in the mirror, even down to the scowls and the bad names. She had just finished getting some gunk out of her hair, an old egg that some stupid, stupid,_ stupid_ boy - was his name Archie? - had thrown at her. It had entirely soaked her big afro and ruined her old clothes.

She'd been sitting on the bathroom floor, using paper-towel to somewhat dry her still too wet locks, when the door opened with a click. Lacey had kept her eyes glued to her shoes in an attempt to remain unseen, hiding behind her pouffy hair and hoping that maybe, just maybe she wouldn't be noticed. But still, footsteps clanked hard against the tiled floors, walking closer and closer and_ closer._ She cringed with every devastating sound, pressing herself as far into the corner as it allowed, feet appearing just in front of her downcast eyes.

"Lacey?" a voice asked her. She couldn't quite pinpoint the emotion in it, and it may or may not have been pity, but the only thing she could focus on was that it wasn't _mean. _Slowly, she looked up, and she was greeted with the sight of a gangly girl with pin straight hair and a brace filled smile. Somewhat taken aback, Lacey could not help the way her mouth dropped open and eyes widened.

"I don't think we've properly met before." the girl continued on. She reached a hand down and pulled the African-American girl off of the floor with a smile, "My name is Regina."

"I-I know." still in shock, her hands flew to cover her lips. Those past few months had taught her not to open her mouth in front of her classmates, where there had been only _judgments. _"I mean, um," she swallowed uncomfortably, still unconsciously inching away, "I'm Lacey."

Regina hadn't missed a beat, "I've seen you around school lately," thankfully, she didn't mention Danny. "and I thought that you looked cool. We should be friends." she smiled at her again. Everything was always simple like that. Regina could just smile at you and say something and suddenly everything was alright and all was good in the world. Even though there were warning bells going off in her head - because why would this girl talk to her? - she still had felt a smile light up her face.

"Okay." she'd said, and her voice had sounded a little odd, even to her own ears. She hadn't heard herself speak for a while now. She repeated herself, a little bit more confident now, "Okay. Let's be friends."

And then Regina had grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the washroom with promises to introduce her to her friends and wow-you-should-do-something-with-your-hair and a final word that made Lacey's heart stop, "_Best_friends."

She couldn't stop smiling that day, because maybe, just maybe things would be okay. She was whole. And she didn't need that crazy-murderer-psychopath anymore (_murderer_), or that weird girl named Jo - how did she ever talk to her in the first place? - because for the first time in a long time she had a spot she fit in. She'd been popular. And she had been on top of the world.

And now she is on the bottom again.

She doesn't understand how somebody as brilliant as Regina was murdered. Regina, perfect, perfect Regina. It feels like somebody has punched her in the stomach and didn't stop, even when she begged.

All she wants to do is let it all out. To scream at whoever murdered Regina. To yell at Regina, because how could she leave her all alone again? _(Ineedmybestfriend) _To get rid of these overwhelming emotions, get rid of this strange vividness. Before, all of her feelings had been sealed into a little box, and now she feels the box being ripped apart and it's contents scattered.

She is not whole anymore.

She feels like nobody could understand her. Sarita is an amazing friend when you really, really get to know her, but at the moment it is all about me-me-me and Lacey doesn't want to take care of anybody else right now.

Jo wouldn't get it. She only knew the _Regina-persona_. Not the actual Regina, who had cried every night when her parents couldn't make it to her first and last ballet dance recital, who had wished that she could see her family long enough to have a sit down dinner with them. The real Regina - the human one.

She begins to skip classes. There is far too much fake pity wafting around the air, so palpable that she feels like she can reach out and touch it. Lacey can't take it anymore. For the first time, she storms out of her first period class in a flurry of emotions and leaves the school in a dizzy mix of nausea and sadness. She jumps into her car and speeds out of the parking lot and drives and drives and drives.

She drives for what feels like hours, until suddenly she is pulled over on the side of the road and all she can do is _cry._

It is the first time she has cried since the whole ordeal. She has remained strong through the assemblies and the church ceremonies and the funeral - Regina had taught her that -, but suddenly everything is far, far, _far_ too much.

And it feels good. Really good.

"Lacey?" a person says her name, and she realizes belatedly that someone has been knocking on her window. Looking up, startled, she attempts to fix her hair and makeup, because _nobody_ can ever see her like this. She must be perfect. Perfect, perfect Lacey.

She stops, though, when she realizes who it is.

Danny.

Perhaps it was unconscious, or maybe just a coincidence, but she has somehow managed to end up a couple of houses down from his. Even now, she can look up and clearly make out the slouching roofs of the mansion. She gulps for a second, suddenly nervous, as he clicks open the door to the passenger seat and climbs in.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and his voice is smooth and rough and she can't help the butterflies flit around her stomach in a hizzy. He is handsome and perfect and everything she has always wanted and it all just makes her so _mad._

It feels like somebody has flicked a switch in her brain, and all of those pent up emotions swirling around in her mind are starting to overflow. Poison sparks her tongue, and words start to fly. She hates him. There is too much unfairness in the world - why did it have to be Regina, and goddamit _why is he so fucking beautiful? _This is all his fault. _  
_

"What do you think?" she hisses at him. He doesn't look very surprised, and that only seems to infuriate her further, "You killed her. You fucking killed her! Regina." she can feel hysteria building inside of her and soon she is crying fresh, hot tears again, "What did she do to you? You didn't even know her. She was one of the best damn people I know! And you fucking KILLED her! You-you..." her voice is starting to crack and she can't help it but she desperately wishes she could, "you killed her. My best... m-my..." and her voice completely breaks at the end, and the next word only comes out as a whisper, "bestfriend." she isn't sure if he hears it though, because now she is hysterically sobbing and she can feel her whole body shaking with each movement.

She isn't sure when it happens, but soon she finds herself in his arms and she realizes that she hasn't had a real hug from him in ages. All of her rage has drained from her body, and she is left a broken mess of a girl, 11 years old again. She clutches to him like he is her life line, and even as she dry-heaves against his chest, she feels a little bit okay. She isn't sure if she can really trust him ever again, but this feels like a good start.

When all is said and done, Lacey sits up and sends him a weak smile. She hasn't opened up to anybody in ages, and even though it's to this crazy-murderer-psychopath (_ishereally?_), it feels like a breath of fresh air. "Thank you." she tells him, because she isn't too sure what to believe anymore.

They both sit in that silence, which is both empty and filled with this weird feeling all at the same time. She tries to busy herself with fixing her hair in the rearview mirror - which has started to frizz and she can see a shadow of her old self staring back at her. _Ugly. _

"Stop." he says, and he moves her frantic hands away from her frizzy hair. A small smile plays on his lips, and his next words make her shiver in a sort of dangerous delight, "I like it better that way."

And she tries not to show him that she's smiling, because nobody has told her that since she was only a small child. Slowly, she moves her eyes back into the rearview mirror, and she can still see that shadow, but for the first time she doesn't feel disgust. She wants to tell him this, but she doesn't like to open up and this whole thing is sort of weird for her.

She thinks he knows, though, because for some reason it seems like he always does.

.

.

.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can't help but stare at his hand lying so close to hers. It is big and calloused and she wonders how it would feel against her own. Her fingers start to twitch and she feels nervous, and part of her wonders why but she isn't about to let her emotions get the better of her.

(_what are you doing?! _a little voice in her head screams)

Slowly, she moves a manicured hand over to his and clutches.

She can feel his eyes move to hers in surprise, and stubbornly she glares on, because all of this emotion stuff isn't really her thing anymore. She sees him relax though, and a couple of seconds later, she feels a squeeze back.

.

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_what happened to us?_

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_._

_._

They are sitting on his bedroom floor again, just like that night almost a month ago. Nothing is anywhere near healed, but her inner wounds are starting to scab, and she has found the will to smile again.

She isn't totally sure what they have together. It's like friendship, but something is brewing just underneath. She is kind of scared to think about it all that much because she isn't quite sure what she might find. All that she knows is that every time she touches his hand it feels likes rainbows and unicorns and _wherehaveyoubeenallmylife?,_ and whenever she sees him talking with Jo, jealousy courses through her like the blood in her veins. She knows that this makes her a bad person, because she has a boyfriend and she is aware what these feelings mean.

Most of the time, she can't help but let her pride get the better of her. She doesn't talk to him very much at school, because these days her popularity is all that she has left to hang on to. But everyday at 5:00, she will drive over to his house and they will hangout in his room until the wee hours of the night.

Things are finally starting to feel normal again.

"So," she says, leaning against his bed as they watch an old movie together. She can't really remember the title, but she thinks that it used to be one of his favorites, so she doesn't say anything, "um, how's Jo?"

And he looks at her, his hair out of it's usual ponytail and shining in the dim light coming from the TV. His eyes are smoldering and she can feel her breath hitch a bit. "She's alright," she feels his fingers lightly squeeze hers. Somehow, their hands always manage to find each other's, "you could ask her yourself, you know?"

She blushes darkly and ducks her head slightly to avoid his scrutinizing gaze, "I know." she tells him, and the conversation seems to end there. She is somewhat grateful and somewhat annoyed, because she still has other questions to ask him.

Silence.

"What?" he asks her finally, and she can hear a bit of exasperation in his voice. He tries to find her gaze again.

"Nothing." she tells him, and she looks in the opposite direction. She can tell that she is acting like a bitch again - it's her natural defense mechanism these days. Lacey is surprised, however, when he pulls her slightly closer to him, her eyes being forced to lock with his own.

"What is up with you lately?" he asks her softly, and she can feel his defined muscles against her, and all she wants to do is lean a bit closer and touch him, but she knows that she shouldn't.

"I'm serious!" she tries to laugh it off, attempting to pull out of his grip, but it is too tight for her to escape. A couple of long moments pass and he sends her another look, her inner walls starting to break down. She takes a deep breath, gradually feeling the smile slipping from her face. Soon, a blush is lighting up her cheeks again and she looks down at their still joined hands. A grouchy scowl make its way to her lips. "Fine. Whatever. I was just - what's going on with you two?" (_whyisshebetterthanme?_)

It is silent for a couple of minutes, and she doesn't want to look up into his handsome face in fear of what he might say. Finally, though, as the silence begins to wear on her nerves, he places a hand on the side of her face and gently moves it close to his. "Nothing." he tells her, and his voice is low and extremely sexy, but maybe she is just imagining things.

"Well..." she starts, and her voice is slightly flirty and a little bit mysterious - just like Regina had taught her - even though she knows it shouldn't be. Some of this almost feels like an out of body experience, but it's all so delicious and she just can't stop, "than what are we?"

She can feel his breath fanning across her face and he somewhat smells like damp wood and moss.

"Well, what do you want us to be?" he challenges her, and he is kind-of sort-of pinning her down, because now he is holding both of her hands against the floor. She knows that she could easily break out of it though, and that almost makes it all the more thrilling, so all she does is lean a little bit closer, to the point where if one of them moved even a tad more, their lips would touch.

"You tell me." and she can practically see the reaction in his eyes, partially lust and something else, and suddenly he is on top of her and kissing her and she can see stars behind her eyelids.

Something about it all feels so dangerous.

Regina would be proud.

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_and life goes on_

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**a/n: I have recently seen the first episode of Twisted, and I loved it! I totally ship Lacey and Danny, mostly because I like Lacey's character and think that they have good chemistry. Plus they almost kissed. But anyways, I will hopefully be writing more oneshots as more episodes come out, but I thought I would give it a shot while I know nothing. Hopefully the characters aren't too OC, since I didn't have a huge amount to go on. And, um, I wanted them to kiss.**

**Lol. But anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Please review, and subscribe :) I will write more ASAP. **

**_betweenthethreads_**


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